A Tattered Line of String
by ckeller48
Summary: Rachel catches Santana snooping around their New York apartment.


**Author's Note: My fiancée prompted this right after 4x15 and she pretty much always gets what she wants. This is my first shot at writing Pezberry. Enjoy!**

Rachel's incredibly shrill shrieking steals Santana's attention away from the stick clutched in her hand.

"What in name of Barbra are you doing, Santana?!" Rachel screams from the doorway of the tiny bathroom.

"Exploring," Santana says nonchalantly, trying to hide the stick in the palm of her hand before Rachel actually notices what she is up to.

"In the trash of our bathroom?" Her tone is incredulous and Santana, despite her way with words laced with quick wit, is speechless.

She lifts her hand out towards Rachel, the white end of the pregnancy test poking out of her fist. She hasn't seen the results displayed via little pink lines yet: 1 for in the clear, 2 for completely fucked.

Before she has a chance to unwrap her fingers, Rachel lunges at her, swatting at her hand. Santana is taken aback at her frantic aggression and she loosens her grip, causing the piece of plastic to clatter onto the tile floor, skidding to a halt halfway behind the toilet. Intense Rachel is nearly as scary as Serial Killer Quinn and Santana freezes up for a moment before realizing that Rachel is a tiny scrap of a human being that she could toss across the room if need be.

"I'm just trying to help," Santana defends with a shrug.

"Nobody here asked for your help. In fact, nobody even invited you to be here! You show up unannounced after not speaking to us for the majority of the past 6 months and have been treating Kurt and I like we are the Glee losers you used to slushie for the entertainment of your Neanderthal friends. Guess what, Santana? We have bright futures in New York and we're not the bottom of the high school food chain anymore. You're just a sad, lost girl that has nothing better to do with her days than try to stir up ridiculous gossip about the only people that were even willing to take her in!"

Santana reacts before she processes and her hand hits Rachel's cheek with a resounding slap that echoes in the small, tiled room. As soon as the sting starts, she regrets it. Rachel's hand jumps up to stroke the bright red mark on her right cheek, glaring at Santana like she could murder her.

"Rach," she starts. Rachel looks at her expectedly, waiting for a very overdue apology and even some gratitude for what Rachel has done for her. But the words get caught in her throat and she looks down at her feet ashamedly.

"I'm willing to overlook your indiscretions of your high school actions, but I will not allow you to act like I don't matter to you if you are going to inhabit this apartment. I thought we got past all of this when we sang that duet together."

Rachel's stern, scolding tone drives Santana crazy, but Rachel's condescending behavior really is kind of warranted. Santana is good with brutal honesty and over-the-top jabs at people's flaws to hide her own self-doubt. She isn't, however, very polished in the art of apologies.

Santana chooses the method that always worked for her when Brittany would try to make her apologize for one thing or another. Distraction is the next best item in her arsenal after her harsh, cutting words.

Rachel is already in the perfect position and she's not expecting Santana to move, so it's hardly a second before Santana is pushing Rachel back against the sink and is pinning her there with their hips pressed flush together. Rachel looks altogether terrified, but Santana doesn't want to scare her. She kisses the spot where her hand made contact; it's quick and fleeting but Rachel relaxes a tiny fraction when she realizes that Santana isn't going to slap her again. Santana takes that as permission to avoid using the dreaded s-word and she kisses Rachel full on the mouth before Rachel has a chance to protest. She holds steady, not pushing it further, not pulling away. Rachel squeaks in surprise but relaxes and her hands finds purchase on Santana's hips, holding her close.

Santana doesn't expect the rush of heat to her core, but when Rachel starts kissing her back, tongue running along her lips until she opens her mouth and lets it inside, her body starts to feel like it's on fire. Rachel is _good_ at this.

It's a kiss unlike any other that Santana has ever experienced. There's a need to prove herself to this girl that, up until a few months ago, she hardly gave a second thought about. Rachel has gotten hot, with the help of Kurt's influence on showing off her best assets and learning how to do her makeup. Santana lets her hands fall down onto Rachel's thighs and she lets her nails scratch up the bare skin up to the line of Rachel's tiny skirt. It's the one thing about her that hasn't really changed from high school and, right now, Santana is pleased by how close her fingers already are to driving Rachel insane.

Rachel's hips grind into her, trapping her hand between their bodies. Santana struggles to keep Rachel pinned to the sink as Rachel surges forward, kissing her with bruising force. Santana uses her residual Cheerio strength to wrap her arms around Rachel's waist and hoist her up onto the ledge of the sink. Rachel leans down and tries to keep herself attached to Santana's lips as Santana's hands are working on yanking her underwear down tanned thighs.

Her head falls backwards and smacks against the vanity when Santana moves beneath her skirt and runs her fingers along Rachel's slit. Santana smirks as she teases Rachel's clit with barely-there touches. Rachel is panting and her hips keep trying to lift from the ledge of the sink to push harder into Santana's hand.

Santana moves down and presses one finger inside of Rachel, biting down on her own lip as Rachel cries out. She's so fucking tight and Santana pauses to let her adjust to the intrusion before she starts moving in and out.

"Fuck, Rach," Santana breathes as Rachel's body clenches around her finger with every thrust. She never thought she'd have her hand buried under Rachel fucking Berry's skirt, but she can feel her own arousal building as she fills Rachel with a second finger, stretching her even more.

Rachel's eyes are squeezed closed and her legs wrap around Santana's waist, holding Santana close to her. Santana keeps her arm wrapped around Rachel to help her maintain balance as she thrusts into her harder, letting her thumb press into Rachel's clit on every stroke. Rachel is eerily quiet as Santana pushes her towards the edge, her muscles tightening and her jaw clenching. She lifts a hand from the ledge of the sink and grabs Santana's hair painfully tight, which just turns Santana on even more.

With a few more well-timed thrusts, Rachel starts shaking and she moans, her voice a full octave lower than usual. Santana focuses on her face, the way it twists in ecstasy before her mouth falls open and she gives herself over to the sensation. Santana is flying on a high from getting to watch the most tightly wound person she knows just let loose in a way Santana never dreamed possible.

Santana pulls her fingers out and wipes them on Rachel's skirt when Rachel finally comes down from her high and slumps back against the mirror.

"Is this your preferred method of apologizing for invading other people's privacy?" Rachel inquires and Santana shakes her head and laughs at how Rachel even manages to form coherent sentences seconds after what she knows to be a mind-blowing orgasm. She is Santana Lopez after all.

"Whatever, Berry. Maybe I just wanted to just dislodge the stick from your ass," Santana bites back.

"Well you didn't approach my posterior at all, so – " Rachel starts.

"Just shut up while you're ahead," Santana cuts her off, turning on her heel and leaving Rachel slouched on the bathroom sink.


End file.
